


Asunder

by thebakkat



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebakkat/pseuds/thebakkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fortnight of waiting for their return from a reconnaissance mission, Ganondorf goes to retrieve his two subordinate commanders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asunder

Ganondorf was losing his patience with his two captains. It had been nearly a fortnight following their departure to collect information about the Hyrulean forces - the Gerudo could not afford to wait any longer for their return. Gathering his strongest troops, he set out on horseback for the Hylian base under the cover of nightfall - as he rode, the muffled sounds of hoofbeats to sand sprinkled through the evening air, he contemplated his predicament.

Sending Ghirahim to conduct reconnaissance missions was always a successful strategy - the demon lord had always returned in little time, head swollen more so than usual - filled to the brim with the enemy’s secrets. Recently, however, there had been a hitch in the Dark Lord’s usually flawless plan - now, the sword spirit would outright refuse to depart for such missions without his fellow Twili captain at his side. Such a defiant attitude towards Ganondorf was not unheard of, but the two were practically welded at the hip, ever since that day…

* * *

 He remembered it vividly, his solitary breakfast - taken early in the morning before the bustle  and clamor of waking Bokoblins - interrupted by Zant’s excited mewling, prattling on and on about how he and Ghirahim had been “mated.” Ganondorf knew full well of their involvement, one that fluctuated between the sickeningly carnal and the overbearingly romantic, so this term frankly baffled him.

Of course they were mated.

But still, Zant practically vibrated with excitement at the Gerudo’s side as he rambled on, Ghirahim glaring at his commander with a tight-lipped grimace, as if to telepathically communicate a message of warning: don’t ruin this for him.

Whatever this was, it was obviously important to them both.

Ganondorf offered his blunt congratulations and returned to his meal, the Twili bowing briskly at the waist and thanking his commander profusely - the hope that his solitude would be returned dashed as Zant pulled up a seat and continued to yammer on with his “mate” over his own breakfast, laden with an assortment of sugary breads and a few runny fried eggs. The sword spirit, as always, did not ask for his own food, but did take to nibbling on what the Twili shared with him.

Late that evening, long after the moon had risen and the troops had settled into their slumber, Ganondorf, reduced to the comfort of his night wear, found himself invited - via a soft knock to his door and a note slipped across the threshold - to an intimate get-together in the very same dining hall, the candles dim and hastily-made decorations adorning the walls and table. A small cake, mediocre in its construction - probably the best possible effort of the “culinarians” on the base - sat squarely in the middle, framed neatly between his two captains. The Twili, rarely seen without his obstructive helmet, shook in place, squinting his glowing eyes and beaming with happiness as Ghirahim looked on with pride - it was an almost endearing sight to behold.

“Welcome, Master!” Zant chirped, “It is the highest of honors to have you here!” He bowed deeply again, and Ghirahim followed suit, without the usual flair or sarcastic decorum to his actions - certainly odd to see such sincere respect from the sword spirit. Zant took the demon’s arm, shuffling eagerly to meet their superior.

“Master Ganondorf, I would like to introduce to you my [mate,] Ghirahim - yes, I know that you already have met him,” he sputtered, “but this is tradition, you see, to introduce him to you this way.”

Ganondorf cocked an eyebrow and looked on with confusion. What was all this, exactly?

“Ah - there would normally be many more people at such a party, but…” Zant paused, trembling slightly -  and Ghirahim was already soothing him, caressing the Twili’s arm, “I like this - just the three of us.”

The demon at his side placed a soft kiss on the Twili’s cheek.

“My love, all is well - only those who matter shall be graced with your presence tonight.”

This was all so bizarre to Ganondorf - these two, even with their usual displays of affection, were acting so oddly - while his Twili captain was no stranger to emotional outbursts, he observed, as Zant’s eyes pricked with tears over the Gerudo’s mere appearance at this soiree, that things were very different now. He watched in silence as the demon lord -  a ruthless, vindictive weapon of war - gently brushed tears from the Twili’s cheek, offering his hand and arm as support. Whatever had transpired that night prior, it had been a major step in their relationship.

They acted as if newly married - yes, such an analogy was easy enough to adhere to all this - asking for his blessing, greeting him as a couple. He could see it, Ganondorf postulated - they would make a finely-wedded pair. Their personalities were stark contrasts to those of their partner but perfectly complementary - and he had to admit, their performance on the battlefield as of late had been unmatched through their teamwork, the Twili growing bolder than ever before, wielding his fellow captain as a sword - truly one in their actions.

And so that night he joined them, partaking in both some cake and a bit of conversation - it was certainly awkward, Ganondorf could not deny, but a very quaint little event. It was quite rare to see Ghirahim letting Zant do most of the night’s talking, but there he sat, gazing with an interesting mix of adoration and satisfaction at his lover as the Twili continued to thank him profusely for attending his brief ceremony.

As Ganondorf rose from the table to retire for the night, bidding them a good evening, Zant abruptly stood as well - suddenly, the King of Evil was being embraced by two very lanky arms. He peered downward to see russet locks pressed against his chest. Ghirahim, positioned off to the side, gaped at the act of affection bestowed upon their commander.

“Thank you, Master,” Zant murmured, muffled by the Gerudo’s thick undershirt. Ganondorf was compressed more tightly, although not uncomfortably so - the Twili wasn’t exactly what he would call “strong.”

“Thank you for everything.”

This was all, of course, very unprofessional, but Ganondorf felt that such boundaries between the captains and himself had been breached long ago - the party was clearly very important to his captain, so without a word, he hurriedly squeezed the Twili back before returning to his quarters.

* * *

 

Ganondorf’s forces arrived with the rising of the sun and took the Hylian fortress by storm - with the element of surprise on their side from the hush of nighttime, they vastly outnumbered the guards stationed at the borders, silencing any attempt to alert those that held the fort itself. The Gerudo charged ahead of his troops - tasking himself with finding his imprisoned captains, he roared with exertion and his dual greatswords and powers of darkness ripped the dungeon doors from their hinges. 

Storming forward, armored boots pounding against the stone halls as he ran, Ganondorf felled every soldier who dared oppose him with a slash of his greatswords, the dark energy that emanated from them quickly cauterizing and putrefying each deep gash and corpse he left in his wake. Suddenly, a harsh, bellowing scream assaulted the Gerudo’s ears, coupled with the clang of steel.

He knew it to be Ghirahim’s voice, albeit torn and ruptured, hoarse through its continuous use - Ganondorf followed the sound through more and more passages, passing and inspecting cell after cell before he came upon the great expanse of a holding chamber, dimly lit and dank - hardly acceptable conditions for a hostage. But perhaps that was the point - to make his captains suffer.

And yet, dangling from the ceiling was a large cage, a faint glow emanating from a bewitchment placed on its bars. The demon lord himself was housed in its walls, a bleak image to behold, utterly disheveled - formerly sleek, silver hair was now a mop of unruly strands. His deep, dark eyes were set above shadows of purple, painted not by his own brush but by endless days without rest - his pupils were enlarged, dilated to match the demon’s flaring nostrils.

Several Hyrulean soldiers were gathered around Ghirahim’s cage, the sharp clash of their swords on the wrought iron echoing against stone. They laughed at him - mocked him - jeering as they rattled his cage further, met only with the demon’s stare and bared teeth, enlarged as he seethed with anger. Suddenly, Ghirahim’s silence was broken with a violent fit of rage - and it clearly wasn’t his first. He roared, fangs exposed and eyes bulging as the demon assaulted the cage, enchanted to keep him from teleporting outside - Ganondorf could clearly see that Ghirahim’s false skin, concealing his true form of a sword spirit, tattering and peeling away as he slammed his bare fists against the bars, continuing to screech and holler as the armed guards retreated only slightly to ridicule him further.

For the first time in many years Ganondorf felt a twinge in his stomach of genuine fear. Ghirahim had become something else entirely - wild; a demon to the core, concerned only with the eradication of his enemies. His frame, usually posed in a more delicate manner, was now hunched, his lean musculature contorted in a way that conveyed his true potential as a chaotic killing machine.  

Ganondorf took this chance to attack, dashing forth to be met with gasps and shrieks of horror before he effortlessly mowed through each opposing soldier, broad slashes from his greatswords cleaving armor with little difficulty. The stench of blood and burning flesh stung at the Gerudo’s nostrils but only drove him further as he flung a freshly-laden corpse into Ghirahim’s cage, the force of the blow snapping the chain and sending him harshly clattering to the ground.

The cage door wrenched open, the demon wasted little time in bolting to freedom, noticeably hunched with pain and exhaustion as he stumbled forth, refusing to even spare his commander a second glance. Ghirahim turned to tear down the nearest hallway, howling, reduced to his purest demon instincts as he lurched forward, almost on all fours as he ran. The demon flung himself down corridor after corridor, forgoing the use of his traditional swords to rip any soldier he came across limb from limb with his bare hands - severely stained and reeking of blood and vitriol, Ghirahim screamed further, a sickening, primal sound formerly unknown to Ganondorf, who was struggling to keep up with the demon’s chaotic movements.

_“ZANT!”_

Finally, a clear word from Ghirahim - he had charged forth into another chamber, shrouded in darkness. Ganondorf felt it again - the ache in his gut as he saw Ghirahim kill again and again, destroying, pillaging for Zant - he realized that for his army, Ghirahim was a mere sellsword. Ghirahim would kill for Ganondorf, and would keep his kills clean - but for Zant, he would give anything and everything, shedding his dignity, his poise - Ghirahim would live up to his name of Demon Lord, and annihilate soldiers; cities; worlds for his lover. Ganondorf knew this - he was no longer the sword spirit’s master - his commander in battle, yes, but at the immediate end of this war, he knew his hold over them would cease.

The deafening roars grew louder and more numerous, paired with that familiar metallic clang as they echoed from the space before Ganondorf - the Gerudo was lagging further and further behind, but in mere minutes he arrived to see his captain slamming damaged fists against yet more iron bars, the exposed metal of Ghirahim’s true body sparking with each strike, punctuated by frantic screams. Ganondorf saw him then, in the farthest corner of the holding cell.

Zant was gaunt - unresponsive - laid against the wall in a heap of robes. A pile of discarded food sat not too far from the Twili, some pieces with only a single bite missing from them - and from others, not a single bit of evidence that Zant had even touched them. Ghirahim continued to call to him, screeching his name, tearing at the cell wall - his demon instincts and frenzy were clearly clouding his thoughts, as Ganondorf postulated that it would have been simple enough for the sword spirit to dissipate through the bars through magic. Ganondorf made quick work of the cell door, bashed in with a violent burst of dark power - the Gerudo was forcefully shoved to the side with a growl, colliding with the stone floor as Ghirahim dashed into the chamber.

The demon scooped Zant into his arms, calling to him, showering the Twili in kisses pressed to his brow and nose. Zant’s eyes cracked open - only slightly - before closing again, creasing to a squint - a meager smile. From within the Twili came a small chirp - a soft, almost primal grunt - as he was pressed against the demon lord’s chest, a slow, soft nuzzle with the bridge of his nose the only movement he was capable of. Much calmer now, but his rage not completely quelled, Ghirahim stroked Zant’s hair with shaking hands, cooing and murmuring praise and affectionate phrases - “my love,” “my shadowling,” “my Zant.”

Having long risen from his captain’s assault, Ganondorf could only look on from a distance - when he had made an effort to approach, to assess Zant’s physical state, he was met with a cold glare and a frightening sound, almost a hiss, from the sword spirit - Ghirahim shielded his Twili from Ganondorf’s view, holding Zant against his chest. Soft sobs were audible from the demon as Zant’s strength had returned just enough for him to loosely embrace his “mate.”

It was abundantly clear to the Dark Lord now - Ganondorf’s two captains shared a bond that was deep beyond his wildest imagination. This physical and emotional dependence on each other - starving; unraveling in their partner’s absence - was evidence enough that these two needed each other to live and thrive. The could no longer be separated - nor could they be left for such a - regretfully - lengthy mission, should they be torn from each other again. It added complications, of course.

But as they rode back to the Gerudo’s base, atop a wagon to facilitate Zant’s recovery, Ganondorf knew it was necessary. He looked to them, the Twili laying with his head in Ghirahim’s lap, eating paltry pieces of food - a grape or a small amount of cheese - and felt almost envious of their bond. Ghirahim tipped a canteen to his ailing partner’s mouth and laughed to himself as water dribbled from the notches in Zant’s lips. The demon’s eyes flicked to meet Ganondorf’s - and he shut up completely. It was clear that he was still very upset with the Gerudo for leaving them imprisoned for so long - it would take all of his effort to win back the demon’s trust.

Ganondorf knew he had to make it up to them somehow. He knew he had sparked another battle with Hylian forces with their rescue - and the strength bestowed upon him but the Triforce had not yet risen to its full power. He feared the worst - that he would not be successful in this next clash with the chosen Hero and his numerous companions. But he would continue, he knew - he could not truly perish under the Triforce’s glory.

But what of Ghirahim and Zant? With Ganondorf’s imminent failure they would be left to fend for themselves while he recovered. But if they knew of the Gerudo’s abilities of resurrection, they would not fight at their full strength, merely allowing for a quick defeat knowing their commander would simply regenerate. And that would arise suspicion in the enemy - they couldn’t know of Ganondorf’s true potential.  

So he couldn’t impart such knowledge - to keep his army at its strongest.

But instead, with his defeat, he would release his captains. At his full strength, Ganondorf did not need underlings, he reasoned - and watching the two together, Zant now asleep against Ghirahim’s chest, he knew he wanted to repay them. He would give them the best chance they could have, freeing them from the bonds of war. Ganondorf would give them his treasure - easily won back as the keeper of Hyrule - he would guarantee them a happy life together as a bonded pair, as he knew they deserved.

They were their own masters now.

 


End file.
